


Lazy Days

by PrinceSircastic



Series: Sass, Speedsters and Serval Industries [3]
Category: All-New X-Factor, X-Factor (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Mild Smut, more implied Remy/Logan, oh look the sexual tension got resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceSircastic/pseuds/PrinceSircastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team gets a day off, and Pietro makes the most of it - by dealing with his growing problem regarding Remy LeBeau.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Days

**Author's Note:**

> So I didn't intend to smut in this chapter, and it's not particularly detailed beyond a certain point, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

It was rare that the X-Factor team got an entire day to themselves – at least, a day where they had no missions or tasks or meetings to attend, emergencies aside of course. So, naturally, when a day off was announced, they were all going to make the most of it. 

Despite not needing to be anywhere, Pietro woke early – as he always did. He slept lightly, unable to stay still for too long, and so he always rose before dawn. With at least an hour or two before anyone else would be awake, he normally took that time to go for a run, enjoying the freedom to race as fast as he needed, without needing to slow down for everyone else. 

By the time he returned, Lorna was awake. He grabbed a glass of water and tried to ignore her piercing stare, knowing that if he met her eyes it would initiate another conversation he didn't particularly want to have. Idly he wondered if Danger had said anything about the other day, about what she had seen. He hoped not. That would make things even _more_ awkward. 

After draining the glass, he rinsed it and left it on the side to dry, and then headed back to his room to change his clothes and find something to do. Maybe he'd reorganise his closet. Again. He could never just sit around and do nothing, but there wasn't much to take up his interest. He'd probably end up running again in a couple of hours. 

He frowned when his eyes found the sleek figure pawing at his bedroom door, and then he sighed. Remy had evidently left his door open again – either that or his cats were clever enough to work the handle themselves. He couldn't quite recall which one this was, though he was certain that the orange one was Lucifer. Trust Remy to name his cat Lucifer. The cat turned its head at his approach, and immediately yowled in greeting and padded over to weave between his legs. 

Pietro didn't know how to deal with cats, really, but he knew he couldn't let it wander around the building like this. He'd have to take it back to Remy's room. Wonderful. He bent, hands reaching for the cat, but then he hesitated, not entirely sure how to pick it up. What if it didn't like being picked up? They crawled all over Remy whenever possible, but he was their owner. He wasn't, essentially, a total stranger to them. 

"It's just a cat." He told himself, and he scooped up the ginger cat – who meowed and wriggled a little but then happily sprawled in his arms, tail curling up to brush against his cheek. Now Pietro remembered Lorna mentioning something about the grey cat being the hostile one, and he was glad that Lucifer, at least, seemed friendly. "C'mon. Let's get you back to where you belong." 

Remy hadn't surfaced from his room as far as Pietro could tell, which wasn't surprising. Remy was a night-owl, no surprise given how he'd once lived his life, and he would stay in bed for as long as possible if given the chance. Pietro would have to simply slip into the room, put the cat down, and leave again. No problem. 

But of course it wasn't going to be that easy, because nothing ever was. 

Lucifer fidgeted a little as he carried him down the hall, until he was partially draped over Pietro's shoulder, his whiskers tickling Pietro's jaw. Pietro paused outside Remy's door – noting that it was, in fact, slightly ajar – and wondered if he should just nudge the cat through the gap and make a run for it. Then it occurred to him that maybe more than one cat had escaped, and whilst he had no doubt they'd find their way back when they wanted to, he didn't particularly want to accidentally step on one or for any of them to disappear. 

Not that he cared, of course. He just couldn't stand the idea of the whining that would follow from Remy. Yeah, that was it, that was totally the reason he was concerned about the damn cats. 

He pushed open the door very slowly, hoping not to disturb the sleeping Cajun in the sizeable bed. He slipped into the room, giving it a quick once-over in an attempt to locate the other two cats, but his eyes hadn't adjusted to the difference in light just yet. He crouched, putting Lucifer down on the floor, and the cat immediately took a running leap at the bed, bounding up to curl up beside Remy's shoulder. Pietro caught himself smiling, and immediately wiped it from his face. 

His eyes adjusted enough to spot the white cat – Figaro, maybe – sprawled over Remy's legs, which were exposed due to the sheet twisted around his middle that barely covered enough to be decent. Pietro forced his eyes away from the long lines of those legs, telling himself now was not the time. He couldn't see the grey cat anywhere, though given the darkness of the room that wasn't surprising. Maybe it had escaped, like Lucifer had. 

He was about to turn and go in search of the missing cat when movement caught his eye – and there was Oliver, hopping up onto the bed where he sat and stared at Pietro through the gloom, his eyes glinting. He was reminded of how Lorna had told him the cat had taken a swipe at her, and he found himself backing up towards the door. 

"I'm just leaving." He told the cat, feeling foolish for doing so and for acting like the cat was some sort of dangerous beast waiting to pounce on him for daring to enter his master's bedroom uninvited. He tensed as Remy shifted in the bed, disturbing Figaro who lifted his head and blinked sleepy eyes in Pietro's direction. He took another step back towards the door, his hand blindly searching for the handle. "I'm going." 

"Dey're not gon' attack you." Shit. Pietro lifted his eyes from the cats, and watched as Remy propped himself up on one elbow, one hand rubbing at his eyes. "Dey're cats, Pietro, not guard dogs." 

"I know that." He said quickly, straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin, hoping to recover some dignity. "Anyway I'm in here 'cause your cat got out. I was returning it. Him. Uh-," 

"How kind o' you." Remy gave him a lazy grin, and Pietro inwardly groaned. This wasn't going to be forgotten any time soon. Remy sat up now, disturbing Lucifer who yowled in protest until Remy reached back to scoop him up and settle him in his lap. 

"And then I was just checking if the other two were here. Y'know. In case they'd got out too." Pietro went on, not sure why he was still explaining himself. All he knew is that he had to distract himself from looking at Remy's exposed chest and from noticing how little the sheet actually covered. 

"You sure you weren' jus' checkin' out somet'in' else?" Remy grinned, idly petting Lucifer, who Pietro could hear purring from the door. 

"Of course not. Don't flatter yourself." He scoffed, turning to leave the room. "Anyway it's about time you got up." He didn't give Remy a chance to reply – he stepped out into the hallway, and closed the door behind him. Remy chuckled to himself as Oliver stalked over to butt his head against his knee, and Figaro nuzzled up under his arm. 

"Yeah, yeah. So what if Remy likes him?" He told the cats, petting them each in turn. Oliver yowled in response, and Remy rolled his eyes. "Hey, you got used to Logan, didn' you? Anyone else is easy compared to dat grumpy ol' dog, eh?" If a cat could raise an eyebrow, Remy knew that was exactly what Oliver would be doing right now. Rolling his eyes, Remy shifted Lucifer and rose from the bed, wandering to his closet to put on a robe. "You gotta admit, t'ough. He's pretty cute, eh?" Tugging on the robe, he turned to face the cats, who were now all staring at him. "You reckon he's de fastest at everyt'in'?" 

When all three cats gave a meow in response, Remy laughed. 

\-- 

Pietro had reorganised his closet twice, shifted the furniture in his bedroom, changed the sheets on the bed, and then shifted the furniture back again after deciding he didn't like the new layout. 

And now he was bored. 

He considered going for another run, but his stomach grumbled at the lack of food he'd put into it, and he figured he would at least go and grab some Chinese or something first. Tugging on another of the Serval Industries hoodies he'd discovered in his closet upon joining the team, he went through to the communal living area he shared with his teammates, intending to grab a quick drink of water before heading out. 

Remy was sprawled on the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table whilst he enjoyed a bowl of something that smelled strongly of spices – and one cat was curled happily in his lap whilst another draped itself along the back of the sofa. Oliver was nowhere to be seen. Pietro lifted an eyebrow as he realised Remy was watching something rather intently on the TV – and not just watching. 

"… Space, de final frontier. Dese are de voyages o' de Starship Enterprise. Her five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life an' new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone befo'." Remy recited, in perfect timing with the TV. Pietro rolled his eyes. 

"And you told _me_ to get a life." Remy turned to glance at him over his shoulder, and Lucifer lifted his head to fix him with a sleepy stare. 

"Comin' from de guy who's never seen Star Trek." Remy shook his head, still unable to believe it. In his lap, Figaro meowed. "Right? He's crazy." 

"You're having a conversation with your cat and you're calling _me_ crazy." Pietro sniffed, and his stomach grumbled again at the delicious scent of food. "What the hell are you eating, anyway?" 

"Gumbo." Remy told him with a grin. "Dere's still some in de pot if you want any. Remy always makes enough fo' an army." Pietro considered declining, but he _was_ hungry and it smelled pretty damn good. It would save him going out to get Chinese, too. He fetched a bowl and gave himself a generous helping, and then he dropped down onto the sofa beside Remy. He tried a mouthful, and found it tasted as good as it smelled. 

"… Okay, I'll admit it. This is good." He turned his attention to the TV, where film credits were beginning to roll. "So what's the big deal about this Star Trek thing anyway?" 

"Why? You got de time fo' fantasy films all o' a sudden?" Remy grinned slyly, and Pietro rolled his eyes. "Cause if you do, den you gotta watch from de beginnin' to understand." He shifted his legs from the coffee table and leant forward to put his bowl down, and Figaro yowled in protest before getting up and climbing up to perch precariously on his shoulder. When Remy stood, Pietro realised what he was doing. 

"Oh, no… wait, I wasn't-," 

"Yo' not gettin' out o' dis now, Speedy. Yo' gon' sit dere an' enjoy de brilliance o' Star Trek." Remy switched the DVD in the player, and then sat back down, Figaro once again getting comfortable in his lap after he'd picked up his bowl again. 

"Yeah? You're gonna make me sit here?" Pietro challenged. They both knew full well that Pietro could dash off at any time and there was nothing Remy could do about it. 

"Non. But yo' still gon' sit dere, Remy guarantees it." He hit play, and got himself comfortable. Pietro told himself he'd sit through it until he'd finished eating, and then he'd make an excuse and go for a run. 

Half an hour in, the bowl sat empty on the coffee table, and Lucifer was curled up in his lap. 

"So… Spock is what, half-human, half…?" 

"Vulcan." Remy told him. "He migh' jus' be Remy's favourite. He's got dat sassy side dat Remy really likes." 

"I wonder why." Pietro commented dryly, his eyes fixed on the screen. He hated to admit it, but he was actually pretty interested in where the story was going, and especially how Kirk was going to overcome the obstacles presented to him. 

Halfway into the film, Lucifer got up and stretched, and he bounded up to the back of the sofa once more, where he sprawled behind Pietro's head, his tail draped down over his shoulder. Pietro barely noticed – nor did he notice how close he was sat to Remy, their thighs almost entirely pressed together. It was rare for him to be so comfortable when he wasn't in constant movement or at high speeds. 

It was only when, as the final credits began to flash up on the screen and Remy reached for the remote, that Pietro noticed their closeness and how comfortable he'd been about it. Deciding not to draw any attention to it, he merely reached out and gave Figaro a gentle pet, the cat purring happily and even nuzzling into his hand. Maybe having the cats around wasn't so bad, although he'd be wary of Oliver, just in case. 

"Well, isn't this domestic?" They both turned at Lorna's voice, and found her wandering over with a smile on her face. She took in the empty bowls on the coffee table, the cats sprawled quite happily, and paid special attention to the fact both men were sat intimately close. She also didn't miss the fact that Remy was dressed only in a robe, but that was a frequent occurrence when he didn't actually have to be anywhere. Remy definitely had some sort of aversion to clothes. She glanced at the TV, and at the DVD case Remy had left on the coffee table. "… Were you watching Star Trek, Pietro?" 

"I-," Pietro knew there was no point in lying. "Remy made me." 

"Uh huh. Oh I bet." She circled around the sofa, pausing to give Lucifer a scratch under the chin as she passed, and wandered to the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Don't let me interrupt. Just pretend I'm not here." After fetching her water, she departed the room with a laugh, and Pietro groaned. 

"Great. Now she thinks we're dating." 

"Is dat a bad t'ing?" Remy asked, raising an eyebrow. "She already t'inks we're doin' de nasty. Surely it's better if we're datin', too?" Pietro stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head. 

"But we're _not_ having sex, and we're certainly _not_ dating." He pointed out, getting ready to get up and walk away from this conversation. 

"Do you want to?" Pietro's jaw actually dropped, and he tried to form words but he'd temporarily forgotten how to speak. Was Remy asking him what he _thought_ he was asking him? "Have sex, dat is." 

"I… you… what?!" He finally found his voice, though it came out a little squeakier than he remembered it being. Remy shrugged, completely casual. 

"Jus' a question. Don' have to be anyt'in' serious." He shifted Figaro, dumping the cat in Pietro's lap, where he quite happily curled up again. He picked up their empty bowls, and carried them through to the kitchen. "Jus' a bit o' fun now an' den. Let off a lil' steam, y'know?" 

"Are you… are you serious?" Pietro's mind was racing, faster than usual. Had Danger said something to Remy? That had to be it. Danger had told him what she'd seen and Remy was making a joke out of it at his expense. That was the only explanation. 

"Well, why not?" He dumped the bowls into the sink and turned to face Pietro again, grinning over at him. 

"Because that's crazy!" Pietro gently encouraged Figaro to move, and stood. "I mean… what makes you think I even… I don't think about you like that!" Remy merely raised an eyebrow. 

"So… dat's a no, den? You don' want to have sex?" Pietro felt his cheeks burning, though he wasn't sure _why_. 

"No! _I do not want to have sex with you_!" Remy gave a slight shrug, and then made his way to the door. 

"Well, suit yo'self." He gave a soft, gentle whistle, and both cats hopped down from the sofa and ran to him, weaving between his legs. "If you change yo' mind, you know where to find Remy." Pietro watched him leave, still stunned and now questioning if it had been a joke or not. 

"Of course it was a joke." He told himself, but he wasn't so sure. He glanced back at the TV, the DVD paused on the credits, and he sighed. He'd sat, willingly, through a two-hour movie about fictional space travel – and why? Because Remy had asked him to? "It was more of an order, really." He sighed again. Lorna had been right. It had been oddly domestic, and Pietro had actually enjoyed himself. 

Damnit. This was starting to be a problem. 

\-- 

Pietro paced in his bedroom, as he had been for most of the evening. He'd tried to distract himself – he'd gone for a run after Remy had left him, and it had worked for a while, but then he'd come back and Remy had just been coming out of the bathroom, still wet from the shower, and he'd had to retreat to his room before he did something he might regret. 

And now he was pacing. 

It was pointless to deny it now. He was sexually attracted to Remy, and that was that – and who could blame him, after all? That damn Cajun was known to be somewhat irresistible to women. It wasn't much of a stretch to imagine he was irresistible to many men, too. 

Remy had made it clear he held no specific preference when it came to lovers, and it was obvious there had been something more than close friendship between him and Logan. So perhaps it wasn't entirely crazy to think that Remy _had_ been serious earlier, that it hadn't been a joke. Either way, he couldn't get it off his mind. 

Nor could he think about anything except the warm thigh pressed to his own, the sound of his laughter as Kirk or Bones delivered a witty and comical line, or how their shoulders had bumped together. 

"Fuck." Pietro groaned, and he stopped pacing. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He drew in a deep breath, and then he was out of the door and hurrying down the hallway. Before he could chicken out, he lifted a hand, and knocked on Remy's bedroom door. He heard shuffling from the other side, and then the door opened. He was dressed simply in a white t-shirt that clung to him in all the right ways, and loose black drawstring trousers – clearly he'd been relaxing in bed. 

"Pietro. What can Remy do fo' you?" He gave him a slow, lazy smile, and Pietro felt his nerve beginning to break. He had to act now. 

"If this is a joke, I'll kill you. Slowly, and painfully." Remy opened his mouth to say something, but Pietro didn't give him the chance. He fisted his hand in Remy's shirt and tugged him forward, their lips meeting in a fierce kiss. When he pulled back, Remy raised both eyebrows and gave him another lazy grin. "Shut up." Pietro told him, pushing him back into the room and shutting the door behind him – and then he pulled Remy into another kiss, his hands already tugging at his shirt. 

The kiss broke long enough for Pietro to pull Remy's shirt up over his head, and then they joined again, the kiss deepening as Pietro let his hands trace the muscles of Remy's chest. When Remy's hands slipped up under his hoodie, he tensed – but in a good way. It had been a while. He let Remy tug the hoodie off, and the shirt underneath it, and then he pressed close to him – chest-to-chest, his hands dropping to Remy's hips as he tipped his face up for another kiss. 

Remy turned them both, and backed Pietro up towards the bed, giving him a playful little shove when the edge of the bed touched the back of his knees. Pietro let himself fall back, but he pulled Remy down with him, fingers threading into his hair as their bodies fit together. 

"Pietro…" Remy murmured, his lips trailing down his throat, nipping sharply. Pietro bit back a gasp and tried not to arch up into him, but it was difficult to restrain himself. 

"Don't…" Don't tease, he wanted to say. Don't draw it out. He needed it fast, needed the rush and the thrill, and he needed it _now_ – but he didn't want to seem needy, or demanding. He slid his hand down to cup the back of Remy's neck, and he locked a leg around his and pulled him hard against him. "Fast." He murmured against his lips, and he actually found himself grinning when Remy gave him a sly smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

"As you wish." He practically purred, a hand sliding down Pietro's thigh as he rocked down into him. Pietro gasped at the movement, whatever blood he had left immediately rushing south. He growled a little, and flipped them, pressing Remy into the mattress. He kissed him, hard and fast, his fingers curling into the waistband of Remy's trousers, and he gave a hard tug, making it clear he wanted them removed. Remy had other ideas, however – his hand found the zipper of Pietro's jeans, and then it slipped inside and cupped him, and Pietro moaned openly into the kiss. 

He broke the kiss, and let out a shaky breath as his head dropped forward onto Remy's shoulder, his hips bucking forward into his hand. This was what he needed – what he _wanted_. Remy's hand worked him at a teasingly slow pace, and from the grin on Remy's face the bastard _knew_ exactly what he was doing to him. Impatient, Pietro grabbed Remy's wrist to still him. 

"No games." He growled, grinding his hips down into Remy's and delighting in the soft moan he got in response. "Just sex. Hard, fast, screaming-till-you're-hoarse sex." He lifted an eyebrow, and smirked. "But if you can't manage that-," Remy flipped them again, pinning Pietro beneath him. 

"Oh, Remy can manage dat, don' you worry." He smirked right back at him. "Remy doesn' disappoint." Pietro lifted his chin, his eyes issuing a challenge. 

"Prove it." 

\-- 

Pietro stirred when a feline figure jumped up onto the bed, and decided to make its bed on his chest. He blinked a few times, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. His eyes focused on the cat perched on his chest, and he recognised the gleaming eyes staring back at him. Oliver. 

There was movement beside him, and he turned to glance over at the sleeping figure sprawled in the bed next to him. The sheets were twisted around his legs, and the light creeping in from the window was enough to illuminate the sleek line of his back. One arm, Pietro noted with surprise, was thrown across his hips. He turned his attention back to Oliver, and sighed. 

"You're pissed because I slept with him, aren't you?" Oliver merely narrowed his eyes. "If you're going to claw at me, just get it over with." But to his surprise, Oliver blinked slowly, and then he stretched out and got comfortable. 

"You call Remy crazy fo' talking to his cats." Pietro turned to look at Remy as he spoke, his voice thick with sleep. "So what does dat make you, eh?" Red irises burned from the darkness of his eyes, and a lazy smile tugged at his lips. Pietro found himself returning the smile. 

"Let's not go there, shall we?" When Remy laughed and leant in, Pietro met him halfway. The kiss wasn't as fierce as the night before, and not as full of need, but there was still an underlying hint of passion within it. Oliver yowled loudly, and Remy parted from Pietro with a grin. 

"No need ta get jealous." He murmured, reaching out to scratch under Oliver's chin. Oliver's eyes closed and he lifted his chin with a purr, and Pietro smiled. "So… is he gon' have to get used to dis, or…" He waited until he had Pietro's attention again, and he raised an eyebrow. "Or is dis jus' a one-time t'ing?" Pietro took a moment to consider, but he already knew the answer. 

"With a performance like that…" he began, amused at how quick Remy was to grin rather smugly, "I don't think I'll be coming back." He grinned, and Oliver was quick to move when Remy pounced, his arms coming to rest either side of Pietro's head. 

"Is dat so?" He murmured, leaning down to nip at Pietro's bottom lip. "Well, Remy better fix dat… can' have his reputation bein' damaged." 

"Oh, no. That would be terrible." He hooked a leg around Remy's waist, and pulled him in for a kiss. "You'd better set things right immediately." 

\-- 

Down the hall, Lorna tugged a pillow over her head, and cursed them both.


End file.
